Askatla’s face fell as Prometheus’ silhouette melted into shadow beyond the reach of the soft light that leaked out the library windows. Her father’s personal guard who was not presently attending to the unconscious figure on the floor rounded the far side of the desk, closed the bullet-proof windows, and drew the curtains, bringing a stifling silence to the room. Taking a step back, he took up a position behind his comrade. The fact that he kept his pistol unholstered did little to alleviate her unease. On the contrary, her heartbeat only became more erratic. The implications behind the presence…